Wise Love
by Kicollette
Summary: Thorin's sister Dis is beautiful, confident, and in love with Dwalin. But fate has never been kind to the last Heirs of Durin. (this is a prequel to 'Belong', a story I wrote about Fili and Kili as boys. I wanted to go back and develop Dis and her husband as strong characters with their own history.)


Dís laughed with her friends as they put the finishing touches on their costumes. The heavy hip belts, laden with silver beads and hammered leaves went on next to last. Dís had crafted the trinkets for all of them herself - she was a talented silversmith. Because she and her friends were unmarried girls, they also wore veils, even though the traditional Longbeard dance costume was known for its modesty. The veil was the finishing touch.

It did not matter how covered up Dís was. Between her bright blue eyes, fringed with thick black lashes, and her talent, she was unmistakable in a crowd of identically dressed dancers.

Her dancing partners were the daughters and nieces of Rankar, her brother Thorin's Chancellor. Rankar ran most of the day-to-day operations of their community in the Blue Mountains. Rankar and his wife also cared for Dís, since Thorin's duties often kept him away, and she had no other kin nearby. Rankar's family loved her like their own. But Dís was ninety-two now, and her thoughts were often on making a home of her own.

Marriage was the one area in which female Dwarves held absolute power. No man, not even a King, would presume to arrange a marriage for her. It was a balance, struck long ago.

Females were too rare, too precious, and too important for their survival to risk in warfare, or in the most treacherous mines. Certain vocations would always be denied them, for their own safety. Kidnapping of females by other tribes was not unheard of, so they were rarely allowed to travel, and then only with escort. Women could not become successful hunters, or trappers, or merchants as a result. All other professions were open to women.

The males insisted that females were not weak, they were precious. To prove that females were not owned, they and they alone controlled marriage. Only a female could ask a male Dwarf for his hand in marriage. A male could say no, or he could say a conditional yes - he needed his mother's permission to marry, no matter how old he was. A mother had the right to refuse any offer for her son. It had been their way since the beginning.

Dís and Thorin had discussed her marriage prospects. Thorin agreed that there would be no bride price for her. It was only fair. Her future husband would come into their family, rather than Dís leave for his, since the heirs of Durin were so few. Besides, Thorin knew who she had her heart set on. Dwalin was the youngest son, with little to his name except a fine reputation as a fighter. Thorin could not have asked for a better brother-by-law.

Dís peeked out into the audience and saw Dwalin. How could she miss him? He was so tall, so handsome, with such broad shoulders. He'd recently started cropped his hair like the half-wild warriors from the Iron Hills. It made him look even taller, even more dangerous.

When Dís danced tonight, it would be for Dwalin alone. She knew his eyes would never be on another.

Dís still had a few more years before she reached the traditional marriage age. But she wanted to be betrothed. She wanted Dwalin to wear the ring that she made for him. She wanted every other young woman to know that he was spoken for. And just maybe, she could work on her brother's love for them both and get permission to wed early, before her one hundredth birthday. Only her youth stood in the way of her complete happiness.

The gathering that night had been for a wedding. The groom was a good friend of Thorin and Dwalin. It was held outside, under moonlight. After the bride and groom slipped away and the celebration quieted, Dís sought out Dwalin, still wearing her dancing costume. She liked that the jingling of the silver trinkets made a soft music to accompany the motion of her hips as she walked up to him. She lifted her veil and proposed to him.

Dwalin said yes for himself, and took the ring she offered. He needed three days to reach his mother's home, ask, and come back.

Dís wasn't worried about the answer. Five days passed, and she still did not worry. On the seventh day, Thorin came to her. He said Dwalin was gone. He had knocked on Thorin's door in the middle of the night, handed back her ring, and told him the answer was 'no'. Dwalin could not bear to see Dís. He said that if he did, he would have disrespected his mother and disgraced them all by running away with Dís. Instead, he packed his things and left.

She was too shocked to cry. She thought Thorin was wrong. She asked again, for every detail of what Dwalin said.

What had happened? They were not too closely related to violate the rules of consanguinity. Had she offended his mother? Was she thought to be too proud? She had heard rumors that Balin and Dwalin's mother was a seer. Had she predicted something, then? Barrenness, madness, misery? She heard what people were whispering about her - Dwalin's mother saw his future with Dís and said 'no'.

Thorin wavered between heartbroken and furious. He loved Dwalin like a brother. Now, he had no brother and his sister was an empty shell, her reputation and prospects ruined.

Dís's exemplary character was her downfall when it came to the rumors. She was so beautiful, clever, gracious, talented and modest, that she was undoubtedly the most eligible young woman in the Blue Mountains. It could only be some predicted future calamity that caused the shocking refusal.

Rankar's family surrounded her and cared for her. Even they could do nothing for her depression. She lay in her bed but did not truly sleep. She sat at the dinner table and did not truly eat. She grew thin, never danced, and never saw the sun.

A year passed this way.

She finally took up silversmithing again. Hroth, Thorin's military advisor, was the one who drew her out.

Hroth was renowned as the finest instructor in ax fighting among the Longbeards. He had taught both Thorin and Dwalin when they were young warriors in training. He was also a talented smith - the axes that he forged were the most highly sought after. Dís recalled how proud Dwalin was of the set Hroth made for him. Grasper and Keeper, he had named them. She wondered how much time would have to pass before she could start to forget all those little details of the one she loved.

Now, Hroth wanted his axes decorated with silver inlays on the handles. Dís wondered why it mattered - even an unadorned ax made by Hroth was considered a treasure. But she obliged because it was him, a friend to her brother. Hroth had been a friend to her father, and had even been in service to her grandfather when Erebor fell to Smaug. It would have been selfish of Dís to refuse him.

When Dís returned to silversmithing, her work was not the same. She no longer made light and delicate jewelry. Her creations were dark, harsh, and frightening. This new style was well suited for weaponry, at least. Dís continued her collaboration with Hroth for many months.

One day, Hroth came to her with a different task. "Your brother needs a new coat. Some of the men were going to have a great one made for him. Would you be so kind as to make silver buttons? We could buy them from another silversmith, but nothing would please Thorin more than what came from your hand. I brought the silver."

"I will." she agreed.

Hroth came back in a few days to collect the buttons. They were filigree circlets, filled with blue-dyed felt and soaked in essence of pine sap. They smelled beautiful. Hroth looked at her quizzically.

"Coats can smell like a wet dog after a long journey." Dís said. "I thought this would help. You can screw them open and replace the felt with another color or scent."

Hroth smiled, "I am surprised. I was half expecting severed Orc head buttons, but this will be much better."

"I need to make my brother more attractive to the opposite gender." Dís stated flatly. "The burden of continuing our line is his alone."

"I would not know about that. Anyway, I like these buttons very much. Could you make a set for me? I will bring the silver and pay you well, since I have nothing to barter with that you would want."

"I will gladly make them for you. You are a friend to my family."

Hroth came to collect his buttons a few days later. The filigree included his makers mark. Dís knew it well from his axes. These buttons were filled with yellow felt to compliment his blond hair, and scented with what he thought was essence of sandalwood and honey.

"You are more subtle than my brother." Dís explained.

"Aren't we all? This is perfect for me." Hroth complimented her. "I shall put them on my coat, and wear them to the harvest festival tonight. You will be coming?"

"No."

"Then one of Rankar's daughters will miss it to stay with you."

"I would not want that. I suppose I will go."

Hroth came by later and joined Dís and Rankar's family. Dís was surprised at how easily she tired from the many steps to exit the mountain. Once, she had been able to dance for hours without tiring. Her body had grown weak in its listlessness. The setting sun hurt her eyes.

Hroth sat with her while the other girls went to perform with their group. Rankar and his wife got up to better watch the entertainment, leaving Dís with Hroth. It was a public gathering, and not inappropriate to leave them together for a bit.

Hroth looked at her, "No reason you can't ask a young man for a dance, you know. It has been two years. Widows wait less time."

"Widows have less bitterness."

"That is probably true."

"There are none that I want," Dís sighed, "and none that would have me. It is not unheard of for a girl to shun marriage and still live a good life."

"Also very true." Hroth nodded. "I have an older female cousin like that, an apothecary. She is skilled, respected, makes an excellent living - she is the matriarch of our extended family. She leads a rich and happy life. She doesn't need a husband for any of that. You, on the other hand..."

"What about me?"

"I was thinking that whenever I saw you dance, I thought that you danced like our ancestors did...like you were calling for a mate."

"What a filthy thing to say to me! All the years I have known you, I had no idea you were so crude and disrespectful!" Dís glared at him.

"It was a compliment, with no disrespectful intended. You and Dwalin never...?"

"No!" her cheeks grew hot.

"Again, no disrespect intended. Some don't wait. Most don't wait, if truth be told. Couples want to be sure they are compatible and you don't need a mother's permission to bed her son, just to marry him. Respect for your royal station and a healthy fear of your brother no doubt played a part in your case."

"It is you who should fear my brother, if I choose to tell him the things you said to me."

"I was never much for fear. I was too foolish for fear when I was younger. Now that I am older and wiser, I finally see consequences, but I usually find them perfectly acceptable. So, your brother may beat me to pulp. I haven't had a good brawl in years. There may be a few moves I forgot to teach him, so that will be my opportunity. Plenty of good could come of it, especially if I can talk some sense into you."

"I think sense is not the only thing you are trying to talk into me."

"Witty girl, aren't you? And right about that. All I am proposing is that before you consign yourself to the single life, you find out what you would be missing. My fair cousin did, and she was content to live without it."

"Is she the source of all your wisdom about females?" Dís asked dryly.

"She certainly is. Women have a right to know things, she says. They certainly deserve to know everything about themselves."

Dís sat there, thinking about all that she did not know. What did Dwalin's mother see wrong in her? Why did this happen to her? She had been so confident once, so passionate. How did she end up sitting here, at a loss for purpose in life, contemplating never being with a mate?

"The choice is all yours." Hroth told her. "No one will know unless you chose to tell. You have my word on that."

"Take me someplace private."

(*************)

Rankar and his wife and daughters were thrilled that Dís became more active after the harvest festival. She was still far from her former joyous self, but she began to eat better, and make visits above ground. Her color returned.

She at least practiced dancing with them, though she would not perform. She silversmithed in earnest, taking on many beautiful projects, often for Hroth. He would escort her back and forth to the forges for fitting pieces. It was fine, Rankar's wife assured her husband, since Hroth was an old family friend.

Dís even took an interest in fixing up Thorin's quarters. It needed painting, and then the fireplaces needed repair. She wanted to spend more time there, and planned to stay there when her brother was in Blue Mountains rather than with Rankar's family. She wanted to be more active in her responsibilities as her brother's hostess, she said. Hroth was always the one to volunteer to help her, freeing Rankar and his kin from that duty. Dís and Hroth, without garnering suspicion, enjoyed an abundance of uninterrupted private time.

After six months of such activity, Dís anxiously announced to Hroth. "I think I am with child."

"You are probably right."

"I thought I was barren! That is why Dwalin's mother refused me!"

"I heard the same theory. I was counting on it being false. You'll make an honest Dwarf of me and ask me to marry you now?"

Dís cried. "Then the reason must be even worse! I am doomed to madness like my father and grandfather!"

"Women! It always has to be about _you_, doesn't it? Did you not think that Dwalin's mother was a selfish old biddy who never wanted her baby boy to marry at all, no matter who the girl? I've known you nearly your whole life. You've suffered terrible loss and survived, just like your own mother and grandmother before you, as everyone knows. You are not mad, and never will be. Put that fear aside and get on with proposing."

"But I do not love you." These were quite possibly the most terrible words she had ever uttered to another living being. She hated herself for saying them, but the truth had to be told.

"You most certainly do love me. You think the love you had for Dwalin was the only kind of love? No. It was magnificent, like it would burn both of you up and you'd die if you could not have each other. I know, because I watched the dying part. But there are other kinds of love, like what you have for me, and I have for you. Maybe it is not as strong but it is certainly not weak love. It is more than strong enough for a good life and a good marriage. Mine's the kind of love that makes you want to keep living."

_'He knows me better than I know myself.'_ she thought. _'I do love him. I did not even realize it.'_

"Well, then, will you marry me?" she asked.

"Yes." Hroth grabbed her hand. "My mother is long dead. Let's go get permission from my favorite cousin. I have been eager for the two of you to meet."

(*****)

Dís sent word for Thorin to come back as soon as convenient from working in Bree. He did, not knowing what to expect. His sister had made precious few requests of him since Dwalin left, and those were always pitiful inquiries for any word of Dwalin.

Thorin liked what Dís had done with their quarters. He did not think she had it in her to make the place so bright and cheerful. She must be feeling better at last. She had made rooms ready for both of them, brought furniture out of storage, and made handsome new quilts. She had cooked all of his favorite dishes.

"Hroth is coming by later." she informed him.

"Is there a security concern? Orc sightings again?"

"No, not at all." she assured him.

Thorin nodded with relief and took another bite of salmon wrapped in a flaky crust.

"I asked Hroth to marry me. He said yes. So did the senior female of his family."

Thorin nearly spit out his food, "Hroth! You asked Hroth to marry you!"

"I did."

"Sister, I am thrilled that you are no longer grieving on what could never be, but Hroth is hardly a good match for you. I respect him like no other Dwarf, but - were he a hundred years younger, even fifty years younger, I would be overjoyed."

"We want your blessing, but we do not require it."

"I know that. I want to give it to you, but I do not want you to invite tragedy into your life."

"My life will never be free of tragedy, I wager, but Hroth brought happiness where there was none. That he will probably leave this life long before me does not matter, because it will be a life worth living."

Thorin needed time to think. "I ask that you wait a year to consider this. Do that, and you will have my blessing."

"A year is too long a wait. My baby is due in six months."

There was a long pause for the news to sink in, then Thorin burst out laughing. That was quite possibly the only reaction Dís had not anticipated and planned for.

"I am serious!" she insisted.

"I am sure you are! Hroth is the best strategist I ever met. I had no idea his skills carried beyond the battlefield. He left me with no choice, did he?"

"You never stood a chance against him." Dís smiled.

"Neither did you, sister. At least your children will be smarter than either of us, if they take after Hroth. You have my blessing."

"Thank you."

"May I pretend to be furious with him when he arrives?" Thorin pleaded.

"I actually like that idea." and she laughed, a sound her brother had not heard from her in years.

(*********)

Six years later.

Dís stretched and then groaned, rubbing her stomach. "This child will not stop running! Fili was such an easy baby to carry."

"Do you need anything from the market?" Hroth asked.

"Strawberry jam, fresh cherries, raw meat - anything red. That is all I can think about today - red. The second child is supposed to be easier!"

"Did the tea my cousin sent help you both to sleep through the night?"

"No!" she snapped. "It must have worked on you, though, since you slept through me getting up three times."

Hroth sighed, "That is the strongest thing that you may safely take in your condition."

There was a knock on the door. Hroth was grateful for the interruption and left her to answer it.

Dís heard softly spoken words. The voice seemed familiar, but she could not place it.

"We have a visitor." Hroth announced.

It was Dwalin's mother.

"Greetings be upon you and yours." Isa said

"And upon yours." Dís replied.

"Shall I stay?" Hroth asked.

"No. Leave us, please."

"I will take Fili to the market then." Hroth offered.

Fili looked like a perfect little replica of his father - short and stocky, with beautiful blond hair and baby whiskers. He had a calm demeanor that Dís thought made him seem somehow confident, as if a toddler could ever be called such a thing. Fili waved hello to the strange lady, and kissed his mother goodbye before taking his father's hand and leaving for errands.

"Why have you come?" Dís asked.

"To say how sorry I am." Isa offered.

"You want forgiveness? There is nothing to forgive. You were within your rights as a woman, a mother. You do not owe an explanation." Dís had come to peace with those words long ago.

"I made a mistake. I wronged you, and my son. He stays away. He will not see me. Balin gets letters once or twice a year. Dwalin sends money for my care. But I fear I will never see him again." Isa's voice shook.

"That is a family matter." Dís replied coolly.

"I have no chance to set things right, because that time has passed. But I wanted to tell you what happened. I have the curse. Some have the profound ignorance to call it a gift, but it is curse. I can see, sometimes, the crossroads of a life. I saw my son on one path. He was old, nearly three hundred years old, wealthy, and living in Erebor. Our homeland was reclaimed. The other path was you, and I saw him buried with honor in Blue Mountain, while still in the prime of his life. You and I and two small children grieved for him. I counted the years and the gold and not the quality of his life. I thought that I did not want to bury my child, that he should bury me. I condemned him to a long life in which everyone he ever loved would die before him. I was weak and selfish. That is why I said no. That is why the sight is a curse. The knowledge does not come with the wisdom to use it for good decisions, so why even torment ourselves with it? He would have been so happy with you. I saw that. I should have let him have you." Isa paused for breath in her barely coherent jumble of words.

"You tell me this _now_?" Dís trembled to control her anger.

"I did not intend to hurt you then, and I do not want to hurt you now. I never knew that you were plagued with fear by my decision." Isa looked down.

"You heard the stories, then." Dís asked "That I must have been barren or doomed to madness?"

"Only recently. I think those around me were afraid to mention it, or you. The rumor about you being barren was put to rest years ago, I imagine. I never heard anyone whisper that. I truly did not know about the other rumor - that you would be sick. I overheard it in a market only a week ago, and took it as a sign I was long overdue to admit to myself that I made a terrible mistake. I caused all of us so much pain. I wanted you to know, it was not your fault. There was never anything wrong with you."

"Wasn't there? Your son would have had a short life with me, and a long one without. That was the third rumor - misery. I must have played a role. What was my crossroads?"

"I will tell you - there was no true crossroads for you. If you married Dwalin or not, you were fated to be a widow with two young children. But that was your sad fate, to be widowed and take the misery all upon yourself. Your husband, whoever he may be, would have been completely happy with you for whatever time he had."

"How much of this did you tell Dwalin?" Dís asked.

"I only told him he could not marry you because he had a higher purpose in life. I convinced myself that was true, that he must play a role in our people's return to Erebor. But the truth is, I did not want to outlive my youngest son, so I told him he could not have you." Isa confessed.

"Time is so strange." Dís whispered, then turned to Isa, "I'm a mother now, so I understand you did not want to lose him. I can at least begin to forgive you, where I could not have forgiven you before."

"That is more than I expected. Thank you."

"You did not do wrong by telling me my future. I know I will not grow old with my husband. It is the price of marrying an older Dwarf. But he is exactly what I needed, when I needed it. I needed to share in another person's lifetime of wisdom, because I started life with too little of my own."

"I should have come to you sooner." Isa said. "Perhaps not with everything, but at least to let you know that you were not to blame."

"I understand, now. I hope you see Dwalin again. I hope he forgives you and returns."

"Balin says he might. He misses home. He heard that you are married now, with a son. That pleases him." Isa clearly wanted to talk.

"Would you like some apple cake and tea? I was just about to have some and write a letter to my brother. I should like to let him know that we talked, if you do not mind."

"Thank you. That sounds lovely." Isa smiled a bit.

"I have not spoken to my brother about Dwalin in a long time. I think I have been remiss in not mentioning to Thorin that I would not be hurt if he summoned Dwalin back to the Blue Mountains. Thorin needs good warriors here, ones who want to see us returned to our homeland - ones who would fight for a higher purpose."


End file.
